Untitled MidnighterGrifter
by Cheshire
Summary: Sometime after the Grifter & Midnighter team up book, Apollo decides he liked the way his husband and the mercenary looked together.


Disclaimer: Wildstorm owns the characters, etc. This is just for fun and no money or anything else material is made.

Untitled

Grifter snarled from the pain. They always fucking went for his legs. He could only pray that, this time, he wouldn't be confined to a freaking wheelchair, stuck as Spartan's pawn. Cole was about movement, action was his way of dealing with everything life through at him, from his stepfather to his teammates to whatever enemy of the week he was facing. Being forced to lie behind a crate, clutching his guns and waiting for whoever was going to find him, first.

His senses twitched every time someone swept through the building. Just his luck, it was one of the strongest presences he felt that approached, hinting at an encounter just before a shadow fell over him.

"Having fun?"

_Motherfucker,_ Grifter silently cursed, eyes narrowing up at the black leather clad figure of Midnighter--never a welcome sight.

Midnighter crouched down, giving his signature smirk. Grifter gave a yell as he was picked up, none-to-gently, and, with a soft "Door," was gone from the scene.

Where they ended up wasn't any more comfortable, just another abandoned building, the one Grifter had done surveillance from. Someone had a bit too much faith in Grifter's healing factor. At least it wasn't as bad as Spartan standing over him monologuing like some two-bit villain while he bled out from crushed legs.

"Cozy." He shifted, getting a better look at his wounds. "This isn't exactly the Authority's scene. Are you hallucinating giant, horny worm monsters again?"

He may have actually shuddered. "I was in the area."

Grifter was pretty sure _no one_ was in the area--the entire street was so far beyond condemned there weren't even rats in the sewers. "Oookay, in that case, you can get some sadistic kicks out of helping me set my leg, and then tell me why the fuck you thought it would be fun to interfere in a Wildcats operation."

Gloved hands took a firm, experienced grip on his leg. "Is the word 'gratitude' part of your vocabulary or do you just let the robot remember anything with more than two syllables?"

Grifter took a deep breath to respond and the "Fuck You" came out just as those hands shifted, making his voice catch and quiver. He broke out into a sweat at the new, even sharper pain, but the dull aching of bones that were just _wrong_ had left him.

"Here I was thinking you didn't swing that way." There was something almost serious in Midnighter's voice that Grifter ignored in the way he did anything he just didn't want to know.

Thank God Wax wasn't around, pestering him about this and that and why Midnighter's hands didn't leave his leg after it was good and set. Why their eyes stayed locked just that second longer than was proper.

"I _was_ in the military."

Silence. Then, "I'll take you back to the Carrier, someone should be around who can fix you up."

Grifter was once more lifted up, and starting to feel like a total invalid. "Damn, don't you know you never introduce the Mrs. to the Other Woman?"

The Wildcats never made Grifter feel old, no matter who was on the team. There were always people like Zealot, Spartan, Void...people who were wise in so many ways as to make him feel like a teenager. The Authority, surprisingly, made him feel ancient. It could have been the difference in how they went about being superheroes (for all their brutality and smugness, the Authority had a weird naive streak) or even just because of physical age (Grifter hadn't aged in years, in two decades, not since the damn Gen Factor, but he was definitely older than that Jenny Quantum and their new Doctor).

He was almost thankful that Midnighter and Apollo were monopolizing his time. After he'd been healed up, they ended up in some sort of spare room, trading war stories and cracks about Majestic (did _anyone_ like that guy?). Grifter couldn't get over the feeling that the two were watching him, as if waiting for something.

So, at the first lull in the conversation, he asked them what the fuck they were doing with him.

Apollo grinned. "You made quite an impression on my husband after your little adventure on Mars." Midnighter gave a dark look. "And after checking out the data we had on you, it gave _me_ an idea."

Grifter searched his face, which seemed deceptively benevolent. "And that was to kidnap me and...what, keep me around for my entertainment value?"

He was answered with a chuckle. "That's not far from the truth, actually. You see, Grifter, when a couple is married, they try very hard to keep things interesting, but sometimes even the most creative pair can run out of ideas." Grifter's face dropped the cocky grin it had been holding up until that point, beginning to catch on. "At which point, adding another, outside element to the mix can help a lot."

"What, that Hawksmoor guy too stuck up for a threesome?"

"It's not a threesome we're interested in."

Midnighter may have been avoiding Grifter's stare, but he wasn't so embarrassed that Grifter couldn't see his rising interest. It was the same with Apollo, who had a notable predatory look on his face. He wondered just how long he could survive in space, if Spartan would notice his position and pick him up before things got too rough. Running out of the Carrier would mean finding an actual way out, though, and Grifter hadn't seen one in any of the winding hallways he had been taken through.

"Okay, so, I'm pretty sure I don't swing _that_ way."

"Oh, come on, Cole, where's the harm in trying something once? I want to see how you and my husband look together."

Grifter swallowed. His mind couldn't focus on the second part of that, so it swirled around the fact that Apollo had used his first name, finding that ironic since most people didn't even know if Apollo _had_ a first name. And this person whose real name he didn't know was most definitely not propositioning Grifter for his _extremely violent_ husband.

He told himself he didn't have any choice. No one with a survival instinct would say no to Apollo and Midnighter while floating around in space. It sounded like an excuse even in his own head.

"So, all you want is for me to do the nasty with your hubby while you watch?" It didn't sound that bad when he said it aloud, definitely better than some of the kinky alien shit Zealot had convinced him to do over the years.

"Pretty much," Midnighter answered for them, stepping around a coffee table that had separated them and looming over Grifter.

"Well, when you put it that way, who could resist?" The sarcasm wasn't as clear as he had hoped it would be.

Grifter was leaning back on his elbows in the middle of a bed (Apollo and Midnighter's bed, he was sure), with Midnighter stripping off the last of his ridiculous outfit and Apollo lounging in a nearby chair, a self-satisfied look on his face. Grifter wondered if Midnighter was just as blindsided by this whole thing as he was.

There wasn't much time for analyzing the moment, even if Grifter made a habit of such things, because Midnighter moved first. He all-but pounced on Grifter, avoiding kissing him on the lips in favor of running his mouth down the column of Grifter's neck, biting at whatever sensitive point he found. Grifter couldn't do much more than grip onto his shoulders. He was trying not to think of how much the aggressiveness reminded him of Zealot, even when the bulk of the man above him was totally different.

He was more tentative, hands brushing over the rough skin they found, running up and down Midnighter's arms. That seemed to excite him, as if the knowledge that Grifter was pretty much inexperienced and at his mercy was helping to get Midnighter off. For some reason, Grifter was pretty sure it was helping along Apollo, too.

It seemed to only take a few moments before one of those large, firm hands were gripping his erection. Grifter gave some nonsensical grunts of would-be words and tried not to thrust too eagerly. The last few times he got laid had been with people out to kill him, he wasn't about to completely relax with anyone.

Fingers brushed over his balls and he twitched, too sensitive for that sort of play, and then jerked when he felt them touching his ass. Zealot had shoved a few things up there (now was not the time to remember that particularly disturbing sword hilt experience), so Grifter knew all about the prostate and its hidden joys, but the more those fingers probed the area, the more nervous he got. He was two seconds away from calling the whole thing off when Midnighter moved back, reaching off to the side for something, and Grifter got a full look at Apollo.

He'd stripped, too. Apollo was leaning back in his chair, naked, one hand tweaking his nipples while another was steadily stroking his penis. His eyes were bright and he almost seemed to be glowing as he took the quick intakes of breath that Grifter knew he didn't need.

Grifter wasn't in the habit of finding other males erotic, but at the moment Apollo looked very much like a turned on sun god, and it did funny things to his head. Which might have been why, when he turned his attention back to Midnighter, he had to bite back a gasp. He hadn't realized how _good looking_ he was. That outfit always made it look like there must be some freakshow underneath, and maybe he wasn't quite at Grifter's level of near-perfection, but aroused and in charge Midnighter was hot.

He was so distracted he almost missed the finger enter him. But a grunt was still pulled from his lips, which were maybe not being kissed so Apollo could hear all the noises he made. Grifter spread his legs a little wider, clenching his eyes shut against the familiar discomfort of having something somewhere it shouldn't really go.

Two fingers, then three, and Grifter was spread wider than his body wanted. It was a strain not to pull away. Four fingers and just as Grifter opened his mouth to say that, no, he couldn't actually go through with this, it was way too weird, Apollo was sitting next to him on the bed, stroking his hair. Then Midnighter was placing Grifter's legs over his shoulders and positioning himself, pushing forward, and...

Grifter was over the awkwardness sooner than he expected, rocking against Midnighter and giving out pathetic whimpers for "more" and "faster" and "please, oh my fucking god, if you don't fuck me harder fucking I'll kill you." Apollo was still masturbating, his erection bobbing on level with Grifter's eyes, so that he could see it glistening and throbbing. Midnighter was mumbling something like "good" or "fuck yeah" but it didn't matter.

He got Grifter off fast enough it was embarrassing, then Midnighter buried himself deep inside him and pumped his hips a few more times, coming almost in sequence with Apollo's exploding over his own hands and the sheets.

"That," Grifter breathed when he could, "wasn't bad."

Midnighter hit him on the side and pulled out, falling over onto the bed with a satiated, feral grin. Grifter relaxed, caught between being really tired and really fucking hungry, and stared at Apollo, who was staring at the two of them.

"It wasn't bad at all," Apollo answered before leaning in and giving Grifter a fierce kiss. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

"Ugh, if I survive the trip home, I might take you up on that...someday in the far distant future...when I've recovered enough to walk."

They saw him off after a long shower. He stepped out of a door and into Halo, feeling not altogether bad. If nothing else, the suspicious looks everyone else was giving him made it totally worth it.


End file.
